


All Done Up in Blue & Gold (Benjamin Tallmadge x OC)

by WeTellTheirStory



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-17 07:54:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29468316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeTellTheirStory/pseuds/WeTellTheirStory
Summary: Meet Henrietta Wick, daughter of Henry Wick, in December of 1779. Her home is in the center of the Morristown encampment at Jockey Hollow. Officers have been quartered there, now and in the past, and soldiers pass by the house most of the time. One catches her eye, and she catches his.
Relationships: Benjamin Tallmadge/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 4





	1. Henrietta - 1

I am Henrietta Wick. 

This is my story.

Of course, by "my story", I mean the story of myself and my husband. For what is a woman in the eighteenth century without her husband? Nothing.

Who is my husband, you ask? 

To answer that question, we return to 1779. 

The war for freedom was in full swing. It had been for three years. 

For a girl like me, they had been a long three years. 

As I was nineteen when the war began, I was then twenty-three and remained unmarried. All of the "suitable young gentlemen" had left to fight a war they seemed bound to lose. This meant I was left to become an old maid, trapped in my father's house, my only amusement the officers we hosted.

My father was Captain Henry Wick, a member of the Morris County Calvary. He was tasked with protected Governor Livingston and the Privy Council. I was but one of his five children.

My brother, Henry, was twenty years older than me and had left the house when he was married, before I could walk and talk. 

My sister Mary was married, and so was my sister Phebe. This was expected, as they were eighteen and eleven years older than me, respectively.

My sister Temperance, or Tempe, was one year younger than me and the most feisty woman I had ever met. We were close in age and looked similar, albeit not the same. We shared red hair and freckles, although her hair was brighter and mine a more subdued auburn. She tried mightily to cover her freckles and subjugate her hair to a more respectable shade when we went out, but I found it too much work for nothing, much to the chagrin of my ladylike mother. Her brown doe eyes had a beautiful depth to them, but clashed wildly with her hair. My piercing blue eyes did me better, but my mother always claimed they seemed to know too much for a woman.

Of my whole family, none of us knew what made my father dote on me more than my other siblings. I was much less beautiful than my older sisters. He never treated Temperance as he did me. There was no reason any man in his right mind would favor a daughter over a son. For whatever obscene reason, I was given free rein.

I was allowed to do whatever I wanted, and what I wanted to do was read. 

I picked up reading quickly, and I learned what I read. I read everything I could find, from the morning newspapers to history treatises. The shelves in my father's library housed nary a book that my eyes hadn't pored over. I was perfectly fluent in several languages, including French, Latin, Dutch, Greek, and Hebrew. I was not educated as a boy, but I was given far more opportunity to learn than any woman in my family had had before.

My mother insisted that I learn all the "womanly arts" necessary to maintain a proper household, but those I mastered quickly as well. I knitted, sewed, embroidered, cooked, mended, and quilted with all the skill that I could recite Plato in the original Greek and translate to English.

Tempe never resented the education I was given, preferring the womanly arts my mother insisted upon. Her horse was her closest companion, a beautiful mare she kept well-groomed and rode every day the weather permitted. I am proud to say that I was her second closest companion, and we were the best of friends despite our differences.

Now, we return to mid-December, 1779, and to my home in Jockey Hollow. General Arthur St. Clair was quartered there, along with his aides. As some of the most fervent and stalwart Patriots in the area, we often hosted important officers. 

A particularly charming and intelligent one, a Colonel Alexander Hamilton, had stayed with us for some time. At this point, he was aide-de-camp to Washington, and possibly the most trusted member of His Excellency's family. Our exchanges over meals were some of the best conversation I had ever had, and I was extremely grateful to be able to spar with someone whose intelligence rivaled my own. The intelligent twinkle in his eye whenever we held discourse at the dinner table touched not only my mind, but my heart. Alas, all that amounted to naught, and I was once again hosting several officers at my table, and not ones who would stoop so low as to have intelligent discourse with a woman, let alone a young girl.

The army had been camped in and around my home for about a month. Most mornings, immediately following breakfast, I would read by the early morning light at the window in the front of the house. At the same early time, a handsome officer, a major, who always had his brow furrowed in thought or frustration, walked purposefully by in the direction of headquarters, the Ford house. 

It was strangely warm for December. Though it had been cold for a while, today was warm enough for me to sit outside.

I sat on the bench, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the camp in the early morning air. I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with the December crispness. I opened my book and began to read.

After a few pages and many interruptions of, "Good morning, Miss Wick," from the polite passing soldiers, the same handsome officer walked by. His brow was furrowed as usual, and he walked by, greeting me by way of a simple, "Miss," without pausing.

"Major," I replied, locking eyes with him for only a fraction of a second. 

In that fraction of a second, however, I saw something momentous. I glimpsed in his tired, yet alert azure eyes the same intensity, the same intelligence, I saw in the looking glass each day. I espied what I had seen in Colonel Hamilton's eyes when our banter over breakfast stole my heart. 

I saw the mind and the soul of a man I could love.


	2. Benjamin - 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Major Benjamin Tallmadge is head of intelligence for George Washington. He encounters Henrietta Wick and has a conversation about her with Alexander Hamilton.

My name is Benjamin Tallmadge. I am husband to Henrietta Wick, whom you have already met. She told me that she was composing a narrative, if you will, of our time together, starting at the moment we first met. I have read her first contribution and decided to contribute myself. 

At the point this story begins, I was a major in the Second Continental Light Dragoons. I had graduated from Yale in 1773, and had followed my brother, William, and my friend from school, Nathan Hale, into the Continental Army in 1776. Two years later, General Washington appointed me head of intelligence after my predecessor, Mr. Nathaniel Sackett, made no progress. In fall 1779, we were camped in Jockey Hollow, making ready for winter, the hardest winter our army would face through the entire war. 

Every morning, I rose from the blissful, carefree depths of what we call sleep to walk to General Washington's headquarters, where I worked as head of intelligence. Mrs. Ford and her family were all hospitable people, and extremely patient to allow the comings and goings of officers at all hours of the day and to house His Excellency and his Family. I found Washington's aides-de-camp all upstanding, intelligent, and hardworking men, but Alexander Hamilton outshone them all, and not least because he was favored by Washington.

His Excellency treasured Hamilton for his efficiency, writing, and fluency in French. His fellows enjoyed his presence for his humor and roguish bravery bordering on reckless insanity. Women adored him because of his looks and charms, and, I hear, his eyes. I more valued his honesty and integrity, for he always spoke his mind, even when common discretion would advise him to remain silent. 

That particular morning, I awoke from a poor night's rest. General Washington had been consistently badgering me for more intelligence, but Culper had not made contact. There was nothing I could do, and yet I had spent hours poring over all my papers, looking for anything at all I could give him. I found nothing. I had only facing Washington with no news to give him to look forward to. I dressed and breakfasted, and then began my walk to the Ford house.

I greeted every man I passed by rank, or by name if I knew them well. As I walked past the Wick house, as I did every morning, I saw something that I usually didn't see. I saw a woman, in a light pink dress, the neckline and cuffs edged in white lace, with a similar white lace ribbon around her neck. She had a white shawl around her shoulders, and she was sitting on a bench outside of the house. Her auburn hair was tied in a coil at the back of her head. She was reading, although I couldn't make out the title of her book. 

I greeted her as I passed, simply saying, "Miss," and nodding. 

"Major," she responded in kind, briefly raising her eyes from her book. 

Our eyes connected for a fleeting second, and I couldn't help but feel that the piercing quality in her blue eyes had read me, everything about me, in that single moment.

I shook the thought from my head and continued onward, taking notice of how beautiful the day was, despite the coming winter. In hindsight, the beauty and warmth of the day was ironic compared to the brutal, desolate, devastatingly cold winter about to set in. 

I gave the password to the guard at the gate, and upon reaching the door, Mrs. Ford's nine-year-old-son, Jacob, let me in. I thanked him and walked into the dining room where the aides-de-camp were working. Colonel Hamilton greeted me. 

"Tallmadge! You've finally arrived."

"It's no later than I arrive every morning, Hamilton. I need to speak with Washington. I presume he's in his office?"

"You presume correctly."

I entered the general's office, where he quickly rose from his desk and spoke to me.

"Major. Have you any new intelligence?"

I shifted uncomfortably. ""No, sir. There is no intelligence to report. Neither Culper Jr. nor Sr. has made contact, and I doubt there will be anything to report. The redcoats are hunkering down for winter, as are we. What good would intelligence do now? Fighting season is over, and it can give us no advantage."

"You are precisely correct. Fighting season is over, which is why we need intelligence even more. Because we cannot meet the enemy on the battlefield, we must not let up on our intelligence efforts! On the contrary, we must double down upon them, in the hope that we can gain some kind of advantage over the enemy! Find me something useful."

"But sir, it is a good sign that the Culpers have remained silent. As of now, the British plan is to remain where they are. We need to focus on preparing for winter, so that our own men do not freeze and starve!" 

"You will not let up on your intelligence efforts. Ensure that your men have been provided with sufficient shelter. I will have Colonel Hamilton make sure of rations. You are dismissed."

I left the room, frustrated because of his stubbornness. It seemed I was incapable of pleasing His Excellency, no matter what intelligence I procured or suggestions I made. Walking back through the dining room, I stooped next to Hamilton. 

I whispered to him, "Can I speak with you outside?" 

"Yes, of course, Major Tallmadge, I will see to the rations with you."

We walked outside the house and stood near the door. 

"Now, what did you want to speak to me about?"

"Well, the general does want you to check the rations-"

"What did you want to speak with me about?"

"You've stayed at the Wick house in the past, correct?"

"Aye." He looked at me with a half-smile and one eyebrow cocked. "Why?"

"The young woman who lives there, with red hair and freckles, what's her name?"

"Which one?"

"Excuse me?"

"Captain Wick has two daughters, both with red hair and freckles, still living in his house. Was her hair auburn, or brighter? Her eyes, were they blue or brown?"

"I suppose her hair was more auburn, and- ah, her eyes were blue."

A slow smile spread over his face, and I saw for a moment the man all the ladies swooned over. 

"That's Henrietta. She's a clever one, and she'll turn you away if she doesn't want you. I'd have tried my luck with her, if I'd thought I'd any."

"What do you mean?"

"Why, she's her father's favorite, and what respected gentleman would marry his favorite daughter to a new immigrant from the Caribbean, even one with General Washington's favor?"

"I suppose you're right."

"You're well established here, from a good family on Long Island. I doubt her father will be the problem for you. You've got a better chance than I did. And with eyes like yours, what woman wouldn't want you?"

"And I'm to believe she'd fall for my eyes if she wasn't swayed by yours?"

"Aye, but my chance with her has passed. Yours has just begun. Good luck with that Aphrodite, Benjamin." He clapped my shoulder and turned to go inside. "Oh, and I will see to those rations as the general asked."

"Of course. And I'll see to the blankets."

As I walked back to where the main army was camped, I passed the Wick house again. I couldn't help but think it remarkable that Henrietta had not fallen for Alexander Hamilton, but Hamilton believed she would fall for me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not take anything written in this book as historic fact, for although I tried to stay as realistic to history as possible, some artistic liberties were taken.  
> Feel free to leave Kudos and Comments!


	3. Henrietta - 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first snowstorm of the winter sets in, and an unexpected visitor is pulled inside.

My husband neglected to inform me of his plan to add his contribution to my own. You can imagine my surprise when I sat down to write this and saw what he had written. 

He also neglected to tell me about that little conversation he had with Colonel Hamilton about me. I thought that honesty was an integral part of any relationship. 

Now, shall we continue with the narrative you were expecting?

About a week after the events we have already discussed, winter was starting to set in. The temperature had dropped sharply, and storm clouds rolled in the sky. 

The winter threatened to be cold and devastating, as it would turn out to be.

It was a cold night. We had supped, and Mother, Tempe, and I were knitting socks and hats for the soldiers, many of whom had none. The general and his aides were on the other side of the house, and my father was on duty, as he was many nights. Outside, it had been snowing since late afternoon, gently at first, then heavier as the storm continued. 

Looking up from her work, Tempe glanced at the window and said, "Goodness, what is that?"

Mother and I turned to the window. I dropped my knitting and stood quickly. 

"Strange to see a light this late, and in the middle of a snowstorm," Mother commented. 

"It looks like someone carrying a lantern!" I exclaimed.

"What fool would be traveling in this storm?" Mother queried. 

"It doesn't matter," I said, already pulling on my boots. "We need to bring them in here before they freeze!" I shoved a hat on my head, wrapped myself in a coat, and grabbed a lit lantern.

"Henrietta! Don't be foolish!" 

"Henri, please, you'll be frostbitten!"

"Tempe, go get the general. We don't know who this is. Mother, get something to warm them. Friend or foe, they will need it." I opened the door and stepped out in to the blowing snow. I held my lantern in front of me, trying to extend my circle of light as far as I could. 

"Hello!" I shouted into the wind. "If you can hear me, come here! I'll bring you inside, to shelter!" I stepped further out in the direction we had seen the light, straining to see anything through the snow. It had looked like it was moving towards the main encampment, so I forged that way through the snow. After a few more steps, I saw a glimmer of light. 

"Hey! Come here!" I pushed through the snow, my lantern as far ahead of me as I could reach. My teeth chattered as the wind whipped around my face. I kept pushing through the snow, until the moment I glimpsed a man in his army uniform pushing through the snow as I was. I lunged forward and grabbed his arm.

"You're coming with me! It's not safe out here!"

I dragged him up to the house and to the door. I pushed him in ahead of me and closed the door behind, blocking out the snow. 

My mother flew onto me, brushing off snow and rubbing my hands to bring the warmth back into them. "Henrietta, you foolish girl! The good Lord only knows what could have happened to you!"

"Mother," I protested. "This man is in more need of your help than me."

I turned to look at the man I had pushed into the house. To my surprise, he was the same major I had greeted outside. He was shivering, his coat layered with snow and his face red with cold, or embarrassment. General St. Clair was chastising him openly in front of all of us. 

"You foolish boy! What were you thinking, walking through this snowstorm! You could have frozen! honestly, I expected better judgement from an officer. You're unbelievably lucky that this young woman recklessly volunteered to go get you, and even more that she managed to find you out there! I cannot imagine-"

"Sir," I interrupted. "The major just came out of the storm, and his clothes are covered in snow. General, I'm sure admonishing him can wait until he has warmed up some."

"Very well, Miss Henrietta. Major, sit by the fire."

The major mouthed "thank you" to me, and staggered to the chair, his walking hindered by the stiffness in his limbs from the cold. My mother hurried forward and pressed a cup of coffee, likely braced with some type of alcohol, into the major's hands.

"Drink," she said. "It will warm you, and Lord knows you will need it."

He drank from the cup and looked up at my mother. "Thank you, Mrs. Wick."

"Of course, Major." She smiled at him. "You should take off that coat of yours and leave it to dry by the fire. It's soaked."

"I'll leave you three to take care of this." The general nodded to us and left the room. 

The major removed his wet blue coat and placed it on the ground by the fire. I hurried forward to flatten it.

"It will never dry crumpled like that," I said. Tempe handed me a towel, which I immediately handed to the major. 

He handed it back to me saying, "Don't forget, Miss Henrietta, you need to dry off as well."

I blushed and accepted the towel, drying my hair and sleeves. I ignored my skirts, because it would take far too long to dry them. "Thank you, Major."

"Benjamin Tallmadge." He took my hand in his gloved one and pressed his lips to my knuckles. "At your service, Miss Wick."

I felt a blush and smile rise on my cheeks, but I quickly stopped and stiffened.

"You are in no place to make such gestures after I have just saved you from freezing in the snow."

He chuckled and looked at me, smiling. "True."

Our gazes locked for several seconds, until I looked away.

Tempe cleared her throat. "Our father is not home, but I'm sure he would gladly welcome you here for the night."

"Tempe!" I exclaimed. It was not her place to invite an unexpected guest to stay the night, but then again, nor was it my place to to drag an unknown man, even an officer of the Continental Army, inside out of a snowstorm.

"Of course! Major Tallmadge, in my husband's stead, I extend his hospitality to you. you may stay the night. It would be incredibly rude for us to turn you away, back into that storm, not to mention how much danger you would be in. This army needs all of its soldiers well and whole, especially a brave officer such as yourself."

"You flatter me unnecessarily, Mrs. Wick."

"Nonsense. Temperance, prepare a bed on the general's side of the house for the major. Henrietta, keep him company while I fetch him dry clothes. Both of you need to stay by the fire. And no funny business. I'm trusting you, Henrietta."

"Mother!" I exclaimed.

She turned and walked away, going to the room she shared with my father.

"I apologize for my mother. She assumes things, and-"

"No, no, don't apologize. I don't know why she would assume such a thing, but it doesn't matter. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wick."

"Likewise, Major Tallmadge."

My mother came hurrying back with a nightshirt that she handed to Major Tallmadge.

"Your bedroom is down the hall. Turn left, and it's the second door on the right. Tempe is just finishing making up the bed. Good night, Major."

"Good night, Mrs. Wick."

"Good night, Major," I said, smiling.

"Good night, Miss Wick." He smiled back. He bowed and went to his room as Tempe walked out of the hall. 

"Good night, Mother. Good night, Tempe. I'll see you when you come upstairs."

They murmured their goodnights, and I went up to bed. I lit a candle as I readied myself for bed, and blew it out after climbing in.

After my prayers, I closed my eyes and saw Major Tallmadge's face. 

I whispered his name to myself. "Major Tallmadge. Tallmadge. Benjamin Tallmadge. Ben. Benny." I loved the way it sounded. On a whim, I added my name. "Mrs. Tallmadge. Henrietta Tallmadge. Henrietta Wick Tallmadge."

I smiled into my pillow. It was silly to jump to such a far-fetched conclusion, but such a wild fantasy made my heart flutter with happiness. I barely knew this man, and yet I was just as, if not more, transfixed by him as I was by Colonel Hamilton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not take anything written in this book as historic fact, for although I tried to stay as realistic to history as possible, some artistic liberties were taken.  
> Feel free to leave Kudos and Comments!


	4. Benjamin - 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benjamin wakes up in the Wick home and meets Captain Henry Wick, Henrietta's father.

I would have all of you to know that I intended to surprise my wife with my contribution to this narrative, and that I would have told her about my conversation with Colonel Hamilton if I had thought she wanted to know. I talked to him every day, and it was just another interaction to me. This was my mistake,. and I apologize heartily for it. 

Honesty is invaluable to any relationship, and I believe ours was completely founded upon it. I have never willingly held anything my wife should know from her, and I believe she has not withheld anything of importance from me. 

Now, it is my turn to add to this story of how she saved me from the storm. 

I woke with a start, surprisingly warm and comfortable. I found myself in a proper bed, with good blankets and a mattress. Pushing off the covers, I remembered how I had been returning from headquarters, despite Mrs. Ford's pleas that I stay. Ms. Henrietta Wick, the very same young woman I had seen outside and asked Hamilton about, had dragged me, cold and snow-covered, out of the storm. Mrs. Wick graciously allowed me to stay in her home, despite her husband's absence, giving me a warm room and one of Captain Wick's linen nightshirts to sleep in. 

I clambered out of bed and put on my stockings, breeches, shirt, and waistcoat. My coat and boots were drying by the fire, so I could not don those. I managed to braid my hair back into an acceptable queue, made the bed, and left the room. 

Thankfully, it seemed that the rest of the house was waking up about that time. I was neither later nor earlier than the rest of them. In the room where I had warmed myself by the fire, I found a servant girl moving the coals to stoke the fire. My coat was draped over the chair I had sat in, and my boots were next to it, by the fire. Taking them, I returned to the room I had slept in and finished dressing. After hearing more movement outside, I left again as morning truly began. 

Captain Wick had evidently returned home sometime in the night, presumably after the storm had ended, as I was seated at his left hand, General St. Clair directly across from me to his right. From the glares I was receiving from the general's aide-de-camp, I was in his usual seat. 

After a blessing over the food, we all began eating the warm porridge and dried apples that had been set on the table before us. Before the war, the Wicks had been apple farmers, and they had managed to procure a crop this year as well. 

Captain Wick, after a spoonful or two of his porridge, asked me, "I want to know more about this strange young man my daughter dragged in from the snowstorm. Would you indulge my curiosity?" 

"Of course, sir. I'm Major Benjamin Tallmadge, Second Continental Light Dragoons. I hail from Setauket, Long Island. I graduated from Yale in '73, followed my brother William and friend Nathan Hale into the army in '76, and I now work closely with General Washington on special assignment." 

"Oh, you knew Nathan Hale? I heard about him. 'I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.'" 

"Yes. From Cato, I believe." 

"Of course. A favorite play of Henrietta's." He smiled at his daughter across the table. I looked at her, and she nodded. "Well, Major Tallmadge, I am happy to have given you a roof over your head and a warm bed, if only for a night." 

"And I thank you very much for your hospitality, sir." 

"As you should," St. Clair cut in. "If not for Ms. Wick foolishly pulling you inside, you could very well have frozen to death." 

"I'm sure the major is well aware of that, General. I would prefer a civil breakfast, one without chastisement of an honorable officer seated at my table at my invitation, especially in the presence of my wife and daughters. If he is truly so deserving of reproach, I'm sure it could take place elsewhere, after our meal." 

The general smiled painfully. "Of course. It is your table, at which we are your guests." He inclined his head toward the captain, then returned to his porridge. 

As I turned back to my food, I made eye contact with Henrietta, who looked down as soon as our gazes met. I quickly looked back at my bowl and continued eating. 

After breakfast, the general left to the side of the house he and his aides occupied. I bid the Wicks farewell. 

Bowing to the captain, I said, "Thank you for your generosity. I would have frozen if I could not stay here." 

He bowed in return and replied, "I couldn't very well evict you from my home when you were already sleeping in the spare bedroom. It was my pleasure to host such an honorable young man." 

"Thank you, sir." Turning to Mrs. Wick, I kissed the back of her hand and said, "Thank you for allowing me to stay the night. I have not had such a comfortable night for a long time." 

"You were sopping wet and freezing. It would have been unimaginably inhospitable for me to refuse you." 

I did the same to Temperance, thanking her for her invitation. She smiled in acknowledgement. 

Turning finally to Henrietta, I pressed my lips to her knuckles and said, "You saved me from my own recklessness. Thanking you would not be enough. I owe you a great debt." 

I looked into her eyes and smiled. A shocked look briefly overcame her features, but she quickly composed it into the gracious smile of a lady. 

"I couldn't very well leave anyone outside to freeze in that storm. The only one that you should thank is the Lord Himself, for showing us your light." 

"I assure you, not a moment has gone by without him receiving my thanks." I turned back around to Captain Wick and said, "I should be on my way now." 

"Of course," he replied. "It was a pleasure to have you." 

Bowing to him again, I left the house and smiled like an imbecile. As I walked through the snow with this foolish grin on my face, my friend Caleb Brewster ran up to me. 

"Hey! What happened to you?" I was off in a little world of my own, so I didn't respond immediately. "Ben! Ben! Benny Boy! Tallmadge! Where were you?" 

"Oh, I was, uh, I was at headquarters and then I was on my way back in the snow. I couldn't see very well, but the women in the Wick house saw my light and Henrietta came outside and pulled me in, most likely saving my life. Mrs. Wick let me stay the night, I had breakfast with Captain Wick, and here I am." 

"So she's the girl." A Brewster grin spread across his face. 

"What?" 

"Come on, Ben, it was written all over your face." 

"Do you know where the barber is?" I asked, dodging that statement. 

"Huh?" 

"Do you know where the barber is?" 

"Well, you didn't answer my question. Why should I answer yours?" 

"We met last night and have had two very short conversations. I don't know what you're implying." I walked past him. "I'll find the barber if you won't tell me where he is." 

Caleb ran up behind me and whispered, sing-song, "Ooh, Benny Boy's in love!" 

"Would you like to say that louder?" I whispered back, managing to keep my tone flat. 

"Well, yeah, but no one's around to hear it," Caleb said in his normal speaking voice. "Waste of energy." 

I elbowed him in the ribs in response. "You're such an arsehole. Do you even know where the barber is?" 

"Nah, but he's around her somewhere. What d'you need him for?" 

"I should go assure Mrs. Ford that I am indeed alive and well, and I don't wish to do that with this haphazard queue I braided myself." 

"You left headquarters after the lady asked you to stay?" 

"I argued with His Excellency. I didn't think he would want me to stay." 

"So you risk your life in a blizzard? Jesus, and I though you were supposed to be the smart one." 

"Hey!" 

Caleb laughed, uproariously and almost insanely. I chuckled and rolled my eyes. 

He was right about Henrietta, and he knew it. 

I loved her then, and I love her now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not take anything written in this book as historic fact, for although I tried to stay as realistic to history as possible, some artistic liberties were taken.  
> Feel free to leave Kudos and Comments!


	5. Henrietta - 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Temperance plays matchmaker, and Henrietta has a (thankfully) one-sided conversation with a horse.

Reader, I suppose that the apology given at the beginning of the last chapter by my husband is sufficient. I believe he truly thought it was of no consequence. He has my trust and forgiveness. I believe there has never been a breach of trust between us for any malicious reason, though I wonder how, even after knowing of my previous infatuation with Colonel Hamilton he would not think to mention that conversation. 

Shall we continue? 

That same morning, some time after Major Tallmadge had left, Tempe and I sat in the sitting room. Tempe held a book, An Essay on the Nature and Immutability of Truth, but she looked disinterested in it. She was watching my hands, which were busy with a mitten I had cast on earlier. 

Sighing, I looked up from my work. "What is it you want to say?" 

"Oh, nothing. What is it you're making there?" 

"Mittens." I returned to my knitting. 

"For that major." 

My head snapped back up. "What?" 

"Tallmadge, was it?" Tempe said, turning a page. "I saw how you looked at him." 

Composing the mixture of rage and embarrassment that was afflicting me, I stated, "I noticed he had no gloves and his hands were balled up inside of his sleeves. What about this is different than me making a hat for another officer, or socks for one of the thousands of infantrymen?" 

"Oh, nothing, nothing at all." Tempe marked her place and set aside the book. She leaned forward, a sly smile on her face. "Except that you actively took notice of his needs, after pulling him inside out of a snowstorm. Oh, and that he, without being billeted here, stayed that night in our home." 

"These are unique circumstances, but that is no evidence of any sort of attraction between us." I put my head down, through with this conversation, and continued knitting. 

"Calm down, I was only teasing." Tempe returned to her book. 

After sitting in silence for a few more minutes, Tempe spoke again. 

"You know, I'm sure Father wouldn't be opposed to him. He's a perfect gentleman, he's already impressed Mother, he has a desk position, so he probably won't be in too much immediate danger-"

I slammed down my work, annoyed because I kept dropping stitches. "He has a command on the battlefield. He may work with Washington, but he's in just as much peril as anyone else. And stop trying to play matchmaker! Find a husband of your own first!" 

"You're already worried about him! How sweet! I wonder if he's thinking about you-"

"That's enough!" I dressed for the cold outside with my cape, woolen hat, scarf, muff, boots and mittens as I spoke. "If he's thinking of me, it is as the woman who saved his life mere hours ago! I'm going to the barn." I picked up my knitting and stormed out of the house. 

I shivered as the cold air blew underneath my cape. Although it was cold out, Tempe's mare, Theo, would help keep me warm in the barn. 

Out of the biting cold, I stroked Theo's muzzle. "You don't think I'm- that there's anything between me and Tallmadge, do you, Theo?"

Theo snorted and thrust her nose into my cape, looking for a treat. 

"I don't have anything for you today, girl. I'll bring an apple next time." 

Moving to her side, I scratched at her withers while thinking about the wonders of God that horses are. Their speed, their strength, their grace, their endurance. Their legs moved with such purpose and precision. They were intelligent, able to make split-second decisions that could save their life and the life of their rider in the wilderness. They could be calm in the heat of battle, where even some of the most courageous, and some of the most rational men could lose their composure. The brave animals were not deterred by booming cannons, roaring muskets, shouting men, or even the fear of those in their saddles. The fear of men like Major Tallmadge, riding into battle-

I snapped myself out of that daydream. "No," I said out loud. "No. I came here to not think about him. I'm not going to think about that." 

I sat on a stool and pulled out my knitting. Working the next few rows, I started speaking again. "You know, Tempe's right. Father would like him. Father does like him. He is a perfect gentleman. Mother is impressed by him. What am I saying? I've had three conversations with him!" 

By now, Theo was completely ignoring me, instead noisily munching hay. 

"But why does this matter? He could be killed, come spring. If I fall in love with him, I could lose him. It's safer to keep my distance. How could I bear a loss such as that? Worrying over Father is more than enough. Do I want to worry about a suitor, or a husband, as well? And he would be much farther away than Father ever is- What am I saying? I don't want to- This is nothing! I am making a pair of mittens for him because I noticed he had none. This is in no way indicative of any other feelings." 

I ended that statement with a decisive finality, knitting a few more rows with no more incident. 

"Or maybe it is. I don't know. I've barely met him twice. What do you think, Theo?" 

She made a noise that I decided to interpret as indifference, or maybe indecision. 

"I don't know either, girl. I just don't know. If I do feel that way, I can't let go of him. I let Hamilton go. This one will be mine." 

I would not be passive. This one was mine, and if I had to make him so, then so be it. 

And now he is mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not take anything written in this book as historic fact, for although I tried to stay as realistic to history as possible, some artistic liberties were taken.  
> Feel free to leave Kudos and Comments!


	6. Benjamin - 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Benjamin is warned of the coming blizzard and has another brief meeting with Henrietta.

I am extremely grateful for my wife's acceptance of my apology. Reflecting upon the last sentence of her chapter, I would like to note that I am indeed, and will always be, hers. She is my light and my love, and I cannot imagine a life without her. She is the one person I can trust with anything and everything that ever troubles me. I can count on her for an intelligent, rational conversation at all times, and I treasure here will all my heart and soul. 

Now that I have showered her with well-deserved plaudits, I will continue to write about our winter at Jockey Hollow. 

Christmas had come and gone. The chaplain made a good sermon out of it. It was almost the new year. Although most of the men's huts were finished by Christmas, some of them remained unsheltered and continued to work in snow up to their knees, just for a roof over their heads. As an officer, my cabin was not finished for days later. However, I was sheltered by the New Year. 

There were almost no supplies. The clothes and blankets given to the troops were insufficient. The men were forced to go without bread and meat, because the dollar had become so inflated that funds were inadequate to cover the cost of an army. It was evident that many of the soldiers who had joined up in 1776 for three years would gladly leave Jockey Hollow when their commissions were up.

As I stepped out of my cabin, the blindingly white world greeted me. It had snowed yet again overnight. Mercifully, there was no snow falling and the sky was clear, but the light reflecting off of the snow was almost worse. 

Only a few new inches had accumulated, so the paths we had trampled through the snow were still functional. As I walked down one of these paths, a man called over to me. 

"Hey there! There's snow comin'!" 

I responded, without turning, "There's always snow coming!" 

"Bad snow, this time. A storm, and lots of it!" 

I brushed this off as an old farmer's 'weather nose', but he would be right. 

Later that day, I was at headquarters. The sunlight outside the Ford house was fading into evening. The sun set quickly in the winter, and it was dark early. 

As I left the room where all the aides-de-camp worked, Mrs. Ford stopped me. 

"Major Tallmadge, I'd advise you not to go for any more nighttime strolls like that stunt you pulled earlier this month." She glared at me sternly.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm returning to the barracks now, ma'am." 

"I mean it. There's a worse storm coming. I feel it in my bones." She narrowed her eyes and set her jaw. "And a widow's bones never lie." 

I recoiled a little as she said this, surprised. Mrs. Ford never referred to herself as a widow, though we all knew that her husband had given his life for his country. It was clear that she was indeed very serious. 

"That's the second time I've heard that today." 

"That a widow's bones never lie? That seems odd."

"No, abou-about the snow. I'll stay out of the storm," I promised. 

"Good." Mrs. Ford looked at me, unsmiling, through narrowed eyes. "You'll make a wise enough man yet." 

We bid each other farewell, and I went on my way. 

"There's nary a cloud in the sky. It's cold, but it's hard to believe a storm of that magnitude is coming." 

As I walked past the Wick house, I saw Henrietta approaching a door to enter the house, 

"Good evening, Miss Wick!" I called. She turned quickly and looked around, seeming startled. 

"Oh! Good evening, Major Tallmadge!" 

I continued on my way, blowing into my hands and rubbing them together for warmth. The door closed and rushed footsteps crunched through the snow behind me. 

"Major Tallmadge." I turned around to see Henrietta standing a few feet behind me. "I have something for you." Taking a few steps closer, she continued, "I noticed that you had nothing to cover your hands, so I knit these." 

She handed me a pair of mittens. Her mittened hand brushed against my bare one, and a pleasant shock rippled through my arm. 

I took the mittens and smiled gratefully. They were simple, but the stitchwork was perfect. I slipped them onto my hands. Though they were not warming, because if gloves are to keep your hands warm you must put them on while your hands are warm, it was comforting to have a layer of wool between my skin and the freezing air. 

"Thank you, this was completely unnecessary. I didn't mean to make more work for you. I-" I took a deep breath so that I could form a cohesive sentence. "Thank you." 

"It was nothing, I assure you, sir. Is it not the duty of all women in this encampment to help stay off frostbite from our brave soldiers?" 

"Well, I-I suppose so." I knew it was doubtful at best that this was a display of any sort of affection, but my heart sank anyway as she told me that she was merely doing her duty. 

Her face fell as she watched my reaction. "I'm sorry, is there something wrong?" 

"Oh, no, no, nothing at all." I looked up at the darkening sky. "It's getting dark. We should go inside." 

Henrietta nodded, and she held my gaze for another moment. There was knowledge behind those eyes. Not the wisdom of an old woman, with all the experience in the world, or the understanding of children that a mother has, but the intelligence of someone who prefers the company of books to that of people. She had chosen the clearly superior of the two. 

A foolish smile spread on my face. Maybe there was something there after all.

Realizing that I was staring at this respectable young woman, and had been for a while, I looked down quickly. I cleared my throat and refused to look back at her. 

Henrietta muttered to herself in a foreign language. It sounded like French, and from what I could decipher, she said, "Non, non, Henrietta. C'est fichu. C'est trés, trés fichu. Tu es stupide. Arrêtes-tu!" (No, no, Henrietta. It's silly. It's very, very silly. You are stupid. Stop!) 

"Well, à bientôt, Major Tallmadge." She turned around and worked her way back over to the house. 

As she walked, I called out, "À bientôt, mademoiselle!" 

Then, to myself, I whispered, "Vous n'êtes pas stupide. Vous êtes trés, trés intelligente." 

I walked to my cabin, where I would not sleep for nights without fantasies of Henrietta present in my dreams. When I woke from these imaginings, they embarrassed me, but I continued to them every night as I sank into the bliss of sleep. I wouldn't see her in person until just before the approaching blizzard, but we met every night in my slumber. 

Though I woke every morning with lucid memory of my dreams, I assured myself that this was a mere infatuation. Like others before it, it would pass quickly. I was needed by the cause. I had no time to focus on this; I had to focus on my work and forget it. I reasoned that it would soon cease to exist.

I was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not take anything written in this book as historic fact, for although I tried to stay as realistic to history as possible, some artistic liberties were taken.  
> Feel free to leave Kudos and Comments!


	7. Henrietta - 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henrietta takes Theo out on the trail right before a blizzard, where she meets Major Tallmadge.

I was unaware that my husband, at first, thought of me as a mere "infatuation". I simply refused to believe that I had any feelings for a man that I barely knew until after having a lengthy, one-sided conversation with my sister's horse, and continued to refuse to admit those feelings to anyone else. I am glad that we both proved to be incorrect. However, his quickness to dismiss this "infatuation" with me makes me curious as to how many of the "others before it" there had been. 

It was the third day of the new year. Although some men deserted, most had stayed. Astoundingly, through the grueling winter, the army would retain most of its soldiers despite the bitter weather. 

Beyond that, Tempe had seen Major Tallmadge and I conversing outside and had refused to cease teasing me for it. 

Each morning, Mother had looked out the window at the sky and stated confidently, "There's something coming. I'm sure of it." I would look out the window after her and see nothing but cold blue skies. It was bitingly cold, for certain, but there was no sign of a blizzard. 

This morning started the same way. After seeing the clear blue sky on yet another cold day, I sat by the fire with my favorite play, Cato. 

Tempe came inside from feeding Theo. She stomped the snow off of her boots and removed them, while brushing some hay off of her skirt. 

"I need to exercise Theo," she declared. 

Without a glance upwards, I replied, "Then do so." 

"Mother insists there's snow coming." 

"She's been saying that for more than a week." 

"Maybe it'll come today." 

Sighing, I placed the play to the side. "And what has this to do with me?"

"Could you ride her?" 

"Why? She's your horse, you are responsible for her, your excuse is weather-related on a beautiful day, and, if you are so afraid of the possible weather conditions, why would you ask me to perform that task in your place if you are not willing to do it yourself?" 

Tempe sat down next to me and leaned over my shoulder. "I guess I'll sit here and talk about Major Tallmadge and read over your shoulder when you try to ignore me, then." 

"Go ahead." I smiled at her wryly. 

I opened the book to my page and continued to read. 

Tempe took a deep breath and jumped into a rambling monologue. "Do you think he'll ask Father if he can court you? He looked clearly smitten out there. Maybe you'll be married. If you are, will his family come? Of course, Father would have to agree to let him court you, and then marry you, but of course he'll say yes. Who could be better than Major Tallmadge? He went to Yale, works with Washington on special assignment, is set up for a good life after the war, loves you, has a desk position, so he'll be in less danger- That's an interesting line. 'What a pity it is that we can die but once to serve our country.' Is that what Father meant about that spy Nathan Hale's last words? That they were inspired by Cato? The major said he knew Hale at Yale. Ha. That rhymed. I wonder how close they were. Do you think he's still sad about that? He looks happy with you. He smiled a lot when you were outside. I think you'll be a beautiful couple. What kind of brother do you think he'll be? Not to you, of course, but to me. And to our other siblings too, I guess. I think he'll be a good brother. He has brothers. He knows how to be a brother. Does he like horses? I love horses. He's a Dragoon, so he should. What do you think? Does he like hor-" 

I snapped my book shut, unable to concentrate with the endless chatter in my ear. Through gritted teeth, I said, "I think I will exercise Theo for you." 

I stood and began to prepare for going outside, grumbling the entire time. 

"Thank you." 

"What's the ground like?" 

"Well, the ground's frozen, but there's powdery snow on the top layer, so it's safe to trot. Don't go any faster than that, though." 

"Of course. I know better than that." 

"Be safe, and come back before the snow starts." 

"There's no snow coming; the sky is perfectly clear!" I called over my shoulder as I stepped outside. Then, I looked up at the sky, which was being invaded by rolling dark gray clouds from the southwest. "Never mind, it's not!" 

I closed the door behind me and walked to the barn. "I can see why Tempe wanted me to ride Theo instead of her. Looks like a storm." 

Entering the barn, I went to Theo's stall and brought her out. I saw that Tempe had groomed her, so I cross-tied her in the aisle to begin to tack her up. 

As I worked, I said, "Well, girl, we're going for a ride. It looks like snow, so we'll be careful, but I can't stand another moment of Tempe talking my ear off, especially about Major Tallmadge." 

I led her out of the barn and mounted her. Kicking my heels against her sides to urge her on, I guided her towards a trail through the woods, which was one of my favorite places to ride. It was especially beautiful in the fall, but the frosty elegance of winter suited it nearly as well. After we had walked along the trail for a while, the wind picked up. The sky was now completely gray, and the wind rushed past my ears and bit my nose. In response, I urged Theo into a trot and shouted into it. 

"Blow, blow, thou winter wind, / Thou art not so unkind / As man's ingratitude; / Thy tooth is not so keen, / Because thou art not seen, / Although thy breath be rude. / Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: / Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: / Then, heigh-ho, the holly! / This life is most jolly! 

"Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, / That dost not bite so nigh / As benefits forgot: / Though thou the waters warp, / Thy sting is not so sharp / As friend remembered not. / Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly: / Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: / Then heigh-ho, the holly! / This life is most jolly!" 

I slowed Theo back down to a walk, tightening my grip on the reins and breathing heavily after simultaneously riding a posting trot and reciting Shakespeare. Steady trotting hoofbeats came up behind me. 

Someone called out, "Hi there, Amiens!" 

Startled, I stopped Theo and turned in the saddle. Upon seeing Major Tallmadge on a handsome gray horse, I let out a sigh of relief. 

"I must admit, Major, you startled me." 

"I beg your pardon. I was exercising my horse before the storm, and I couldn't help but hear you reciting Amiens' monologue." 

"As you like it, sir. I cannot find fault with you. I simply did not expect to meet anyone along this trail, what with the weather being so ominious." 

"I must confess, I did not either. Though I am overjoyed to come across such a beautiful lady, one who could brighten even the dreariest winter, it was to my surprise that I heard you shouting to the wind." 

I felt my cheeks flush at his compliment, a reaction that I hoped was masked by the red whipped into my face by the wind. Major Tallmadge and I rode our horses abreast along the trail at a walk, a pace that made conversation easier. 

Major Tallmadge spoke again. " I hear you are familiar with Cato?" 

I smiled. "I am indeed, sir." 

A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "We performed it at Yale." 

I nodded somberly. "What a pity it is / That we can die but once to serve our country." 

"Aye." All traces of a smile fell. "He never said that, you know." 

I turned my head to him in confusion. "What?" 

"Hale. He never said, 'I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.' He said that it was the duty of any good officer to obey the orders given to him by his Commander-in-Chief. They changed his last words, in the report. He was a failed spy. They changed a failed mission to an act of martyrdom." 

"Oh." I looked down at my hands, unsure what to say. It seemed as if he had unburdened his soul to me, whom he barely knew. Scratching Theo's neck, I said, "You must miss him." 

Major Tallmadge seemed to snap out of a world created solely by his thoughts. "Pardon me?" 

"Mr. Hale. You were friends. It must be hard to know he's gone." 

"Well, I-I do, yes." 

"If life is love and love is loss, then life is loss, and you cannot have lived if you have not lost." 

The major stared at his hands. He blinked away tears, and, after a moment, he said, "It seems sad, but it is true. What is it to love if you never lose one you love? Love without loss is nothing. Though all things must come to an end, loss, far from ending love, only strengthens it. 

Solemnly, I nodded and replied, "Grief is but another form of love." 

"Aye." Snowflakes began to gently drift down from the sky. 

"I should return home. I promised to be back before the snow." 

"'Tis only flurries. If we turn now, I can escort you home without worry." 

"Thank you, sir," I replied with a warm smile. Could it really be true that my feelings were requited, or was this simply courtesy? And if the former was correct, would he court me formally, or would this end without ever beginning? 

After turning around, we rode in silence through the softly falling snow until we started to near the head of the trail. Unanswerable questions swirled through my mind, overlapping and accumulating like so many snowflakes in a blizzard. 

"Do you believe what Amiens says about friendship and love?" Major Tallmadge's question jolted me from my churning storm of queries. 

"Excuse me?" 

"'Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly'." 

I hesitated, unsure of how to answer. "As with everything, there is a grain of truth to it. Some friendships are feigned, and some love is folly. Yet, I believe that most friendships and most loves have good intentions. Any feigned friendships will fall quickly, and any foolish love will end in disaster. That cannot be true for most instances." 

The major nodded, looking thoughtfully over by our farmhouse. "Miss Wick, may I ask you a question?" 

"Of course, Major Tallmadge." 

"May I ask you to allow me to call you my friend?" 

"I-I am flattered, sir. I would gladly be called your friend, if you would allow me to call you one of my own." 

"I would be honored, Miss Wick." 

"My friends call me Henrietta, so you should as well." 

"Then I insist that you call me Benjamin." 

We reached the barn, where I prepared to dismount. Benjamin hurried to dismount before me, so that he could assist me. As he did so, I laughed. 

"Benjamin, this is truly unnecessary. I am fully capable of dismounting my own horse." 

He chuckled and helped me down anyway. 

"You should get to your cabin. The storm will worsen any moment." I took Theo's reins in my hand to lead her into the barn and turned to face Benjamin. 

"Well," he replied, smiling. "I'll be on my way, Henrietta." 

"Then adieu, dear sir." 

"Adieu, mademoiselle." 

After watching Benjamin mount back up and ride off into the snow, I brought Theo back into the barn, quickly untacked her, and started to groom her. I made her comfortable, because there is no way to predict how long a storm will last. I did not expect it to last as long as it did, however. 

"Well, Theo," I said as I brushed her. "Today had one victory of some kind, even if it was small, and thankfully without injury." Theo snorted and shook her mane. "Alright, I'll go inside and leave you alone." 

Upon entering the house, snow-covered, I saw Tempe waiting for me. 

She began, "I saw-" 

I interrupted her with a glare. "Not another word. You've already talked my ear off today, and I have a feeling we will be confined to this house for some time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do not take anything written in this book as historic fact, for although I tried to stay as realistic to history as possible, some artistic liberties were taken.  
> Feel free to leave Kudos and Comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Do not take anything written in this book as historic fact, for although I tried to stay as realistic to history as possible, some artistic liberties were taken.  
> Feel free to leave Kudos and Comments!


End file.
